Unexpected parenting sources

In stark contrast to his mother's childhood, my oldest son is extremely popular with his peers.  Kids want to sit next to him at lunch, they copy the silly things he says, and they follow his game ideas on the playground. His teacher says that one child in particular is "obsessed" with him, and constantly asks if they can work together.

Last week, Xander and this child got in trouble multiple times in one day for having a food fight at lunch, and then later, for going to the bathroom 5 times in a 20-minute span. They were also banned from the 100-Board, a math teaching tool, for not using the pieces appropriately and for throwing them at each other.

Obviously, after getting this news, Jonathan and I sat Xander down for a talk.

Not so obvious were the parts of our talk that he resonated with the most:

"With great [social] power comes great responsibility" from Spiderman

and

"Use the Force for good [behavior], not bad"  from Star Wars.  

Thank you, pop culture!  His choices the next day were ever so much better.

Fairytale Town a couple weekends ago

Ahoy thar, matey.

My brother's Captain!

Up the treehouse ladder.

Siblings on a slide, part umpteenth.

On the "Crooked Mile," a super-twisty road.

All hail the Spider Boys!

Climber One.

Climber Two.

Sliding down.

Hula hooping.

How Spider Child the Third spent his day.

Friday fun

Ari discovering static electricity at the park.  It's pretty dry outside!

Pointing to someone unexpected, who followed us all the way here...

Osher the guard-cat!

For context... sniffing around.

Coming to play on the slide.

Robin and Connor.

 Contemplating life.

Exploring Dead Sea mud

Playing dress-up with friends: pirate Ari!

We call him Darth Spider.

Baby selfie

I am a powerhouse.. for the moment

Jonathan's out of town today, so I took the boys out of school because I couldn't bear the thought of fighting with them to get to school, and I knew Connor would cry the entire two hours of the car ride (1/2 hour there and back twice, for drop-off and pick-up).  So I declared a "Mommy mental health day" and instead, I and the kids (and Robin for part of it):

- went to the park

- made brownies from scratch (no mix!)

- made mac'n cheese (most definitely from the Kraft mix)
- read books

- after reading a book about Israel, put Dead Sea mud on our faces and let it dry

- had a playdate with Mateo and Eva and their mom, and cleaned the living room before and after

- did beading and made necklaces

- went to Panera to get challah, and Rite Aid for assorted sundries

- ate 3 meals and 2 snacks, and then I loaded, ran, and put away 2 dishwasher loads

- ran and folded 3 loads of laundry

- organized all the kids' puzzles

- nursed and nursed and nursed

- changed at least 6 diapers

Question of the day: why did I get 4 mosquito bites outside when Robin and the children got none?

Ari was really hard today and fought everything I did, from getting dressed to eating lunch to washing his face.  I was so ready for bedtime, and started to get really mad the third time he'd come out of his room after lights were out.  But as I started to be cross with him and he began to cry, I heard him say, "stay with me, Mommy," and all of a sudden a light went on: he's still feeling insecure about his place, and this time nothing was at stake except bedtime, which was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

So I finally did something right with him, instead of losing my patience: I gave Connor to Robin and carried Ari to his bed and laid down with him, and stroked his hair and told him every single thing I could think of of why I loved him.  And he was quiet and didn't say a word.  And after 10 minutes when I was done, I whispered in his ear that I was leaving, and he just nodded and reached out his arms for a hug.  And he hasn't gotten up since.

I'd been really dreading the day, but it turned out to be quite nice.

I still can't do this full-time though. :)

We should be ashamed

Source:  NY Times

Life lessons

I strongly believe in life lessons.  For almost every situation, I think, "What can I learn from this?"  Sometimes, it's easy things like "never put banana peels in a garbage disposal" or "giving warm chocolate milk to children before bedtime is not the same as giving them warm regular milk."

But generally, the lessons are broader than that.  For the longest time, especially before I had kids, I believe my lesson was to let go of fear.  I had to learn to make decisions based on my heart as well as my head, and not to let fear of negative outcomes dictate who I was becoming.  One of the bravest things I feel I've ever done was saying yes to Jonathan's marriage proposal after two months, because it was such a divergence from my life plans at the time and I didn't know what life would like look afterwards.  It was my very first real leap of faith.

The leaps continued, especially as I had kids.  The author Elizabeth Stone once said,  "The decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide to forever have your heart go walking around outside your body."  I read that quote well before I had children, but I only understood it once Xander and the other boys were born.  It felt like every day as they developed I was (and am) forced to let go of fear, fear of something happening to them, fear of not providing what they need, etc.

This week, the life lesson has morphed a little, in a very tangible way.  While closely related to the general "fear of not being a good enough mother," I've realized that this lesson is less about fear, and more about acceptance: acceptance of who I am, and letting go of who I want or think I should be.

It began when I took two self-quizzes I found linked on Facebook. On one of them, I scored 16 out of 16 for being Type A.  On the other, I scored 3 out of 23 for being an introvert.  I was actually a little surprised by both, as I hadn't thought of myself as having those extremes.

It started a ricochet of self-reflection.  Yes, I'm Type A and an extrovert.  I thrive on being with people in groups, interacting with others and having adult conversations.  I love being with my children... but I also can only take the 2 and 5 year-old bickering for so long.  I've always known this; that's the reason why Jonathan is the stay-at-home parent and not myself.  He has more patience and enjoys it more.

My not-so-new epiphany is that I have trouble with that.  Apparently I know who I am, but want to be someone else, someone like the home-birth circle women I knew in Cincinnati, or my Mormon cousins, or even a rabbinical friend who owns chickens and does craft projects and makes homemade yogurt.  I'm not that person and never will be... but part of me still thinks that person is the better mother than the Type A extrovert who honestly enjoys late-night Board meetings.

The next few years, then, must be about self-acceptance.  It's one thing to say I have a good self-esteem and have a lot to offer my children, but quite another to beat myself up because I want to be the primary parent and hippie-granola in theory, but not in reality.  I can't have both.  I am NOT that person.  Maternity leave has been hard because "caring for a baby" is a really difficult goal for me to enjoy, no matter how much I believe in its value.  (It's also at the root of much of my marital conflict, too, I'm realizing - I have very firm ideas about how to address kid conflict, what to make as a healthy dinner, etc, but then I don't want to do it and so criticize Jonathan for doing it wrong.)

So my next life lesson?  To let go of my ideal of who I should be, and what I should do, in order to be what I consider a good mother and wife, and just accept who I really am.  If I can do that, I think I'll be much happier with my life.  And most likely, that means my husband and kids will be happier with theirs, too.